


Marking for the Cause

by Rinkafic



Series: Telpa 'verse [9]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Stargate SG-1 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-12
Updated: 2011-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little sidestep in the Telpa 'verse, looking beyond the borders of Wrin Parr'ish's world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marking for the Cause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fairjennet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairjennet/gifts).



> Dedicated to my comma-chaser and beta, with love, here's your boy.

  


  


  


  
Miltran Cameron Mitchell entered the tent and stood at attention, waiting to be recognized. When the officer sitting on the camp stool behind the map finally looked up at him, he reported, “We’ve located another planet where some of our troops were sold off, Commander.”

  


“Didn’t my orders specifically state not to waste any more manpower on that project, Miltran?” Commander Landry hissed at him. 

  


“This was accidentally discovered, Commander. Permission to bring the man that found it in so that he may make his own report?”

  


Landry waved his hand and Mitchell ducked out of the tent and grabbed the man he had brought with him, dragging him forward by the elbow. “Make it good, make it count, this might be our last chance.”

  


He shoved the man into the tent and stood close behind him. When the Commander looked up, Mitchell nudged him in the back. The man stuttered out nervously, “Doctor Corrigan, Commander. I’m with the field anthropologists, attached to Miltran Mitchell’s exploration team.”

  


“What did you find, Corrigan?”

  


“When we were doing trade negotiations for food supplies, one of our allies mentioned another alliance of planets, joined by the Gate network. We have never had dealings with any of these worlds in the past.”

  


Landry scowled at him. “Why are you telling me this? Get to the point.”

  


“The Banalshey have, sir,” the Banalshey, one of their enemies, Corrigan didn’t have to add. “They apparently sell off captured troops to the slave traders in this alliance.”

  


With another scowl, Landry glared over Corrigan’s shoulder at Mitchell. “The odds of finding any of our men in a network of planets where we have no allies and probably do not even speak the language is not worth the effort, Mitchell. I will not commit troops I need elsewhere on a futile expedition.”

  


“Commander, I do not wish to send an expedition. Just a small party of volunteers.  Doctor Corrigan believes he can bring back information about these allies of the Banalshey, information that might help us defeat them. Sir, this is why the civilian contingent was assigned to my ranks, let me send them where they can do some good. My troops are on stand down for a moon, awaiting resupply. Permission to take a short-term mission team out on reconnaissance?”

  


Another glare, this one hostile. Landry had never liked Mitchell, and Mitchell had always known it.  The glare turned speculative.  “You’ll be taking this team yourself?” 

  


“Yes, Commander, I couldn’t ask anyone to go if I were not willing to do so as well.”

  


The grin Landry threw him was hateful. “Permission granted, so long as you lead them, Mitchell. One moon, thirty four days. If you are not back on duty on the thirty fifth day, I will have you up on charges of dereliction of duty. Take the damned thief too; I don’t want her in my camp if you aren’t here to watch her.  Feel free to lose her on the way back.”

  


“Yes, Commander.” Mitchell knew when to withdraw. He grabbed Corrigan before the doctor could say anything and backed out of the Command Tent. 

  


Corrigan ran to keep up with him as he headed for his camp. “Miltran? I don’t know if we can accomplish much in just one moon.”

  


“We’ll do what we can, Doctor.” It was all he could do. After two years, his lover was probably lost to him, quite likely dead, but so long as there was the slightest bit of hope, Cam had to follow up on every rumor. If he could bring even one of the lost ones back, it would all be worth it.

  


~*~

  


  


“Pull your hat down, Teal’c!” Cam reached over and tugged the floppy brim of the felt hat lower over the bodyguard’s eyes, hiding the Jaffa mark emblazoned on his forehead. He knew it had been a mistake, bringing the big man along, but Teal’c had sworn a Blood Debt and refused to leave Mitchell or Vala until it was settled, and as usual, he was stuck with the Free Jaffa's presence. They were waiting in an alley for Vala and Corrigan to return from asking their questions at the market booths. 

  


They had been in luck; the Gate had provided them with the proper language when they arrived here. Mitchell had been concerned about that, not all worlds they travelled to had language that could be interpreted. The scientists theorized that some of the Gates on the worlds were so old that they had begun to malfunction.

  


Vala and the Doctor were arguing when they came back. 

  


“I already have one! So do Teal’c and Cameron, it will have to be you.”

  


“I don’t want to.”

  


“It’ll be sexy.   I love watching, Corrigan.  It gets me all kinds of hot and bothered, and then you’d have to do something about it.”

  


Corrigan stopped and stared at Vala, his eyes wide with shock. “Really?”

  


She nodded seriously. “Really. You’re cute. You’ll be cuter after.” She reached over and pinched his cheek.

  


“After what, Vala?” Cam asked, coming up behind her.

  


“Well, you see, they aren’t really willing to talk to us because we don’t have proper markings.”

  


“Markings?”

  


“Ink. Battle brands. Tribal markings. Tattoos,” Corrigan replied. “They know we’re outsiders that have come through the Ring of the Ancestors, as they call it here.”

  


“But if one of us had the proper markings…”

  


Nodding, Corrigan replied, “We’d be able to attend a sale.” 

  


Mitchell crossed his arms and looked doubtful. “How do we go about this?”

  


Vala smiled. “For a price, there’s a man in a booth over there that will do a proper ink. The price is a little high, I admit, because it isn’t at all legal.”

  


“How high?” Cam asked as Teal’c grunted in acknowledgement of the fact that what they were doing was not on the level.

  


Vala rocked on her heels and looked over at Corrigan. “Well, you see sex sells here, it sells very well.”

  


“How much, Vala, what did you sell them?”

  


“You,” she smirked at him. “You are a virgin, aren’t you, Cameron?”

  


He was going to kill her, one of these days she was going to push him too far and he'd kill her, Blood Debt or no.  “Vala!”

  


“I’m kidding. Your spare sidearm, the one you keep clipped to your ankle. Hand it over.” She held her palm out and he bent and retrieved it, slapping it into her hand.

  


“But… it’s so permanent!” Corrigan whined as she took him by the elbow and dragged him back towards the booth.

  


“Think of it as a souvenir of a grand adventure. And you’ll always have the sex to look back on. I can promise, that will be splendid!” Vala’s voice carried back to Teal’c and Mitchell.

  


“Miltran Mitchell, do you think she will actually…”

  


“Oh yeah, she wasn’t kidding, the girl likes to watch. Let’s go wait at that wine stand over there, I think I saw some seats by the trees.”

~*~

  


  


Sitting on a stump, Corrigan couldn’t believe he had agreed to the crazy plan. He was letting a strange man touch his foot. The man tapped the side of his instep. “If I put it here, it will heal in a few days, should be in time for the next sale at the pens. They don’t look too closely at foot marks.”

  


Doctor Corrigan nodded. 

  


The man picked up a pestle and began mixing his inks. Vala was perched on the wall beside them, hands on her knees, watching everything with an excited gleam in her eyes. She had been allowed to stay because she had paid the man, she seemed to have the man convinced that she was Corrigan’s telpa and did all his business transactions. Corrigna really wanted to ask more about this telpa business, but didn’t want to undo any of Vala’s business dealings, so he remained silent.

  


The first touch of the needle made him gasp. Vala’s hand fell onto his neck, stroking him soothingly. He breathed through the pain, and soon it became bearable. He was even able to look down and watch with clinical fascination as the man maneuvered the needle around beneath his skin. 

  


Vala had not been lying. She was panting with excitement, her eyes glazed as she watched. She had not stopped touching him since that first stroke. Her fingers ruffled through his hair and when he caught her eye, she smiled. “Tell me, Rarto,” she said coyly to the tattoo man, “Is there a place for cheap lodgings around?”

  


Withdrawing the needle to re-ink it, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Next road down, green awning. Drinks are fine. Don’t eat the food.”

  


“I’m not interested in food. Do they trade?” Vala asked, leaning forward and gnawing on her lip as the needle was reinserted. 

  


“Everyone trades here,” Rarto replied with a gruff laugh.

  


“Trade is good,” Vala said as her hand clenched at the back of Corrigan’s collar, and he leaned back and moaned. She obliged him by continuing to massage his neck.

  


“Done. That’s the mark of Bardero Kavanagh, a small holding out in the west, near the bay. They don’t come here often enough that you’d run into them, but their mark is known at the pens. We get a lot of telpa from them coming through here; they’re almost as big a training operation as Bardero Parr’ish up at The Springs.” Memorizing the names Rardo had mentioned, filing them away for later, Corrigan eyed the mark on the side of his foot.  Vala handed over the weapon, their business concluded.

  


When she pulled him up, Corrigan protested, “Shouldn’t there be care instructions, or a bandage?”

  


“Keep it clean!” Rarto called helpfully as Vala leaned to scoop up his boot. He hopped along, leaning on her, gingerly putting his toes down. Her hand had drifted down and was cupping his ass as she supported his hobbling gait down the road. 

  


“We should find Miltran Mitchell,” Corrigan said.

  


Vala smiled cheekily at him. “Oh, we will, don’t worry. As soon as we’re done.” Spotting the green awning, she hustled him along, whistling a little tune under her breath.

  


“You meant it, about the…” he blurted as she dragged him through the doors of the tavern.

  


“Of course I did! Innkeeper, I need a room!” Vala slapped her hand on the bar and gave Corrigan a very sultry look. “You were very, very, brave. You didn’t even whimper. That was hot. Innkeeper!”

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:  
> Centran - a rank, leader of 100 men  
> Miltran - a rank, leader of 1000 men


End file.
